The Remnant of a Broken Order
The Fall From Grace A ruined landscape, formerly known with pride as the Seireitei, stood basking in the darkening skies. War was a cruel mistress, and she had proven that once more with not a hint of prejudice. Buildings lie burning in bright blue flames, or pummeled into utter rubble. Craters and crevices dotted the landscape, some filled with bodies, some with ashes, and some with nothing. Men and women, and even a few children lay in the battle's aftermath, bloodied, broken, or utterly torn to shreds. Some found comfort amongst other wounded individuals as their final moments drew to a close, while others lay screaming in despair, begging for their loved ones, alive and dead, to save them from such a harsh fate. It was as if hell itself were upon the land, and this was simply it's first stop. Within one pile of burnt rubble was a single hand, stuck out into the air, lifeless and cold. After a few seconds, it seemed to be simply another casualty, but then it moved. The entire arm of the hand shot up from the rubble, coming back to the earth and grasping what it could to pull it's body out of the ground. Emerging with a raspy gasp of air was a man in his early thirties it seemed, with short, messy white hair and a white military outfit. His attire was burned all over, though it mostly remained in tact, save for the man's left sleeve, of which revealed a burned arm and glowing lines underneath it's skin. He breathed heavily, groaning as he pulled himself from his rubble grave. He grasped his chest area as he sat up amongst the ground, and his eyes began looking all around his surroundings. For a minute, he seemed to have forgotten where he was, but then he began coming back to reality: He was a Quincy, a pure blooded Quincy, meant to fight alongside others in a war against the Shinigami. So many allegiances, so many past mistakes, so many more things to fix... He felt his vision fading as he breathed heavier and heavier with each passing second. He glared at the burn wounds on his left arm; it was horrendous, nearly to the point to where he could see the bone of his arm, but it wasn't bad enough to where he would make a great deal of it; his Blut Vene was still functioning so it wasn't anything to be too concerned. What was ''concerning was what he saw several meters away from him: Men dressed in black robes, those of the Shinigami's, scoured through this ruined fortress, searching for their dead and wounded, or the wounded of their enemy. A hopeless task, in the eyes of many, but to some who were bold enough to retain their optimism, it was something that simply needed to be done. "God...look at all of this..." one of the younger, male Shinigami said, with his dark brown hair spiked up and his green eyes gazing in horror at all of the destruction and suffering that he was forces to walk over. "Our home...it's just...I can't even think of what to say..." "Then don't say anything." The elder of the five man team said. He was the tallest of the group, with light grey hair that stretched down to his neck and a fairly large beard attached to said hair on his sideburns. "Stay focused on the task at hand. Do not let your will waver by what you see; what is destroyed can be repaired." "But there were so many of them." The youngest of the group, a small female with short blonde hair said in a frightened manner. "They had us outnumbered five to one it felt like! How do we fight something like that!?" "Enough!" the elder man barked, glaring at them all as he stopped the group and turned to face them in a imposing fashion. "Letting defeat and despair into your minds will make this war all the more pointless! There is no valor in dreading the coming of war, no honor in dropping your arms at the sight of death! You are Shinigami of the Gotei 13! Now start acting like it, and let's go!" This brought their attention back to the task at hand, rather than the despair that crept into their minds. Only a few minutes passed after this, did the young Shinigami girl's attention divert to something interesting. "Sir! I see one! An enemy soldier!" she said, pointing in the direction of the silver haired man, who still sat up looking at his healing arm. With this, they all five drew their blades in preparation of resistance in any form. "Keep your wits about you! Never underestimate your opponent, no matter how wounded they may be!" the leader of the team said aloud, moving closer and closer towards the Quincy. When the latter began to stand up and gaze at them with almost dead eyes, breathing in raspy but calmer breathes than before, they all, save for the leader, strengthened their holds on their weapons. "Quincy!" the elder bellowed in a commanding tone. "You are outnumbered and gravely wounded! Resisting us will grant you nothing but death, so we, in the name of the Gotei 13, demand that you stop where you stand and surrender peacefully, or we will put you down like the animals you and your comrades truly are!" The Quincy stared at them for a few seconds, before standing himself back up with a groan; no point in trying to argue with them in his condition, after all. "Alright alright, I'm up. Just give me a minute, let me.. get my bearings..." he started, using his hands to loosen up the back of his neck. At this point, however, the elder Shinigami had used a Flash step to appear in front of Asumu, his hand shooting out towards the Quincy's chest, possibly using a Bakudo spell to try and disable any of his further movement, but this would prove to be a mistake on the elder's part. The palm of his hand would not touch flesh when it made contact with the Quincy, but rather, it would touch what seemed to be an energy field around him that would only be visible when he touched it. Any spell he was attempting to use was rendered useless, something he would find out when he looked back up at the Quincy in surprise, who was staring down at him with a blank expression, but with clear menace in his eyes. "I said: give me a minute." Within that moment, the Quincy brought both of his hands down and clasped them onto the surprised Shinigami's arm, before bringing his right knee back up to crack right into his ribcage. "GAGH-!" the man grunted aloud, before he found himself being thrown over the Quincy and slammed into the ground behind the latter on his back. With a loud crash, and a gush of saliva and blood flying out of his mouth upon the moment of impact, the elder Shinigami was rendered all but helpless. "Sensei!" the younger Shinigami group a distance away shouted with clear alarm at what had just transpired, all drawing their swords and running towards the Quincy and their master. The Quincy glanced over at their position calmly, wiping the dirt off of his shoulder. It was clear now that whatever injury he had sustained earlier wasn't hindering him as much as one would think. "Your subordinates are coming here." he said to the defeated elder while still looking at the oncoming group from afar. "Do you value their lives as much as yours? Should I kill you and let them live, or the other way around?" "G-Go to hell... devil....!" the Shinigami grunted, struggling to even get himself back up. "I'm afraid it's too late for..." the Quincy started to reply, before one of the younger Shinigami out of the four leapt at him with a vertical swing of her sword. Easy prey, he thought to himself as he caught the sword in his left hand, before slamming his right fist into the girl's stomach and punching her right into the other three younger Shinigami, knocking them all off of their feet. "...for that." he resumed, getting on one knee and kneeling next to the elder. "Now, I'll ask aga-" he started, but then he looked at the elder man's face once more, this time with more focus than before. His eyes began to widen as images began to flash in his mind. He could see that same Shinigami, slightly younger, holding him up by his throat when he was still just an initiate to an old Quincy Empire. Dead bodies of fellow Quincy, non-military, scattered about them, even children. The Shinigami was grinning wildly, saying several inaudible, but as he raised his sword to the boy's throat, he caught two words. ''"Auf Wiedersehen..." "...you..." the Quincy muttered as his previously dispassionate face began to gradually turn into one of rage. Out of his wrist dangled his Quincy cross, of which he clenched tightly in his rising fist. At this point, the Shinigami now realized the same thing that the Quincy had, and boy at how the tables had turned for him. "N-No, wait-!" he started, but he was cut off when the Quincy's fist flew straight into the man's mouth, shattering almost all of his teeth and even blowing through the other side of his mouth. The Quincy's teeth were gritting, his eyes bloodshot with rage, and as he raised his blood-covered fist out of the dying man's mouth, he snarled as he slammed it back into the man's head, then again, and again, and again, and again. The younger Shinigami had all recovered by this point, and they could only stare in disbelief and horror at what they were seeing. When it was over, the elder Shinigami's head was no where to be seen, instead replaced with a puddle of splattered blood and scattered teeth. The Quincy, still full of rage, panted heavily as he looked at the Quincy cross within his open, bloodied hand. His face slowly began to relax and a tear slowly fell out of his eye. "Auf Wiedersehen..." he whispered quietly, before falling over on his side in an incapacitated state. His previous wounds had finally gotten to him as his Blut Vene wore off. ---- With a low gasp, his eyes shot opened as he sat in a single prison cell, with hard wood flooring and a single bucket in the corner. Instead of simple bars, the room was sealed in what appeared to be a glass barrier, though knowing how the Shinigami work things, it was far more than simple glass. He'd been taken prisoner by the Gotei 13, one of very few, he imagined. Such a humiliating position he was in, but it was all due to his own miscalculations and downright arrogance that he was in this place. He would be interrogated in some fashion, he knew, but by whom? He could only wonder as he sat calmly on the floor, awaiting who would come for him. And so the Gotei 13 had chosen him to do the interrogation after all. Why had they even bothered? Raian Getsueikirite was about as good as interrogating someone as he was cooking; terrible, all he was good at was carving stuff up. And yet, they had sent him anyways. Apparently everyone else whom would've been capable was caught up in rebuilding the Seireitei. Whatever the case, Raian strolled down the halls of the Maggot's Nest. To add to his frustration, the damned Shinigami had locked the unsuspecting holy man all they way at the very bottom of the Nest, away from any of the prisoners who might think of helping him escape. That meant Raian had to walk all the way down twenty flights of stairs to get to the man. Twenty. Count them; one, two... Eh, who has time for that. In addition, he had been allowed to take his sword with him. Usually, such things weren't permitted in the Nest, but with it being wartime, those rules had been lifted for Captain-level combatants seeking access to any prisoners kept within the prison. Finally, the raven-haired Shinigami made it to the bottom of the Nest. Like the rest of the prison, it was a cave located far beneath Soul Society's surface. Unlike the others, it was poorly maintained, save for the barriers that held the prisoners in their cells, which were usually given a wooden flooring. For what reason, Raian could never understand. It seemed to him somewhat asinine to make a prisoner comfortable. Especially the ones kept this far down. Walking in, hands on his hips, the Captain strode in front of the crystalline barrier, and gazed for the first time on the prisoner. Tattered white military uniform. The emblem of a many-pointed crest on the back of it. White hair, not all that unlike the man the Captain respected most. All of his weapons and regalia had been stripped of him; being kept under the watchful eye of , who was, for lack of a better term, dissecting them as he stood there. The prisoner looked unusually calm for a man in possibly the worst rut hole the Spiritual World had to offer, but, then again, there really wasn't much of a choice on his part. Raian's eyes narrowed. Usually, he was a jovial, caring man. But war brought out another side of him, and he would have to ignore his humanity once again to deal with this man. "On your feet, prisoner." he barked, loud enough to echo against the cage's wall. "This isn't the Ramanda, and you and I have some work to do." The voice of Raian was enough to make Asumu somewhat relieved. The deathly silence that plagued the Maggot's Nest could drive even one as reserved as him insane, so a sentient voice, even one as harsh as Raian's own, was a welcome change to him. Of course, there wasn't any point in ignoring his command; sitting or standing, there was hardly anything he had that could convince himself to keep quiet over his recent alliances. Calmly, he stood all the way up, showing a rather tall and unnervingly calm stance as he folded his hands behind his back. His half-lidded, sky blue eyes glared at Raian with not a trace of emotion. "And what sort of work would that be, Captain?" he said in a British accented tone, of which conveyed a deep resonance that was so clear and empty, it would not be a surprise if anyone questioned the man's mental health. "Well, that's no big secret, now is it?" Raian snapped off. "My people hate your people. Your people hate my people. You were just the one unlucky enough to get caught with his trousers around his ankles." It was a joke, but the Captain-level Shinigami really didn't expect the Quincy to find it amusing. Raian's mood shifted now, become darker—marked by the narrowing of his eyes and constriction of his pupils. He looked absolutely soulless. He couldn't understand the Quincy species. There were those, like his own wife, which, despite their fiery personalities, would die before being captured. And then there was the type like the man before him. Preferring to continue spitting on their enemies until being forced to surrender to their wounds. Jacqueline would've never submitted to his. The thought was fleeting, but no less true. Then there was the look on the Quincy's face. Emotionless. But Raian was smarter than he let on. He know. You're boiling inside, aren't you? The question would never be heard by the Quincy. And it never needed to be. Though the Quincy was not showing a single sign of emotion, it might as well have been written across his face in permanent ink. He was furious. Degraded. Every inch of his soul wanted to break free from this shithole and tear Raian limb from limb. Well, he would try at least. Raian had fought through his fair share of pissed off prisoners in past wars. Most of them ended up in a pile of body parts by the end of the confrontation. The Captain's jaw clenched, slightly annoyed by the vibe the Quincy was giving off, however unintentional they might had been. "Let's start with a name, shall we?" he questioned, his voice temporarily cracking — reverberating off the tight bedrock that composed the chamber they were in. "Can you do that?" Not a moment of hesitation came from the Quincy as he replied in the same tone as before, no flinches, no smirks, no expression; just a blank stare. Inwardly though, Raian's suspicions were correct for the most part. He didn't want to be here; there were a thousand places that he would rather be, and a thousand more things he would rather spend his time on, but because of a single mistake, here he was, facing the man that he was told to kill and separated by what seemed like such a fragile piece of glass... "I suppose it's fair." he began. "I'' already know your name, your rank, your current, or ''former area of residence, alias', war history, relatives and associates, and even some of your capabilities. I think giving you my name would help even things out." He then tilted his head to the left, slightly, without a hint of change in his dry tone. "My name... is Asumu Godai, formerly known as Sternritter 'S', by the grace of his Majesty." Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch'.'' That was a taunt. That was definitely a taunt, wasn't it? ''It was. Raian's eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't exercise the restraint that the Quincy was. Was it a sign of weakness? One could see it that way. But he preferred letting his targets see his emotions. It threw them off. Gave them a false sense of security, confidence, whatever it may be. Whatever it was that gave them the feeling that they could overcome him. That way they never it saw it coming. They would never suspect the moment he came crashing in on their party, crushing their windpipes in the process. "Formerly?" The question wasn't meant to be vocalized. It was an internal thought. Nothing more than a curiosity. Somehow, however, it slipped out. Rolled off of his tongue. He shook his head, clearing it of the question. He didn't care if Asumu answered it. His lips were too busy curling into sadistic satisfaction. Don't That was the amusing thing about Raian. He was full of sarcasm. It was a side effect of spending the past 2,000 years with Seireitou Kawahiru. The Quincy had brought up Raian's family, thinking it may take him aback. Maybe it would make him rethink this. What if Asumu escaped? Went after his family? Murdered them? He knew where they were after all. '''''Good luck, fucker. "Well, at least now I know you can follow basic instructions." Raian finally spoke up, his grin revealing a flash of his pearly whites; eyes narrowed, giving him an almost demonic appearance in the lighting. "Its a good thing your people haven't used that information yet. My family is a bit rowdy. I'd hate for the body count on your side to rise more than it already has." Raian took his time strolling across the cavern to retrieve a small, wooden chair, and then drag it back to where Asumu's cell was. He plopped down in it, resting his chin on his arms, and resumed glaring at the holy man, picking his words ever so carefully. As previously stated, he was terrible at interrogating, but who knows? Maybe this would help him finally find his knack for it. "Now, so long as you're just standing there, listen up." Raian growled. Like a fucking animal. "There are two ways we can do this. You can give me the answers to my questions nice and quiet-like, like a good prisoner, and you can keep your skeletal structure intact. Or you can decide to be the martyr for the Quincy, holding in all that information for the sake of your comrades, and I can spend the next few days taking out all my frustration on that skull of yours." Well, at least that was partially the truth. He wasn't allowed to kill the Quincy. Nor was he allowed to damage the Quincy to the point in which he could no longer give up any information. But, he could do almost anything else he wanted. Despite his threats, he had no intention of coming into physical contact with the Quincy. He had been given a few other tools, though, that would accomplish his purposes, should he need them. "And I have as much time as I decide I need to get this information, so don't think I'll wear easily." he added. "Now, let's start at the beginning. Just how did your lot infiltrate the Seireitei?" It was a basic question. In fact, Kurotsuchi already had the answer to that question. But Raian was methodical in his dealings with the enemy. It would be a test. Would the man lie, or would he spill his guts? This would tell him all he needed to know about how difficult, or how easy, his prisoner intended to be. "Don't take me for a fool, Captain." Asumu would reply, still maintaining his tone and composure. Him standing while Raian was sitting gave him a rather... amusingly false sense of superiority. It was almost as if Raian were wanting him to feel that way; in that case, he wouldn't comment on it. "Your people already know the answer to that question. We broke into Soul Society once, it was clear that we would do it again, especially considering how none of you bothered to try and fix the problem after the last war, choosing instead to lie in a false sense of security, never considering what might happen... will ''happen." This time, a hint of a smirk barely showing his teeth, would come onto the Quincy's face. His eyes would narrow slightly. Raian's statement about how he had entered their home had certainly given him a chance to test the Shinigami's patience further. Not only was it amusing to him to see anger well up in his opponents, but it was a good way for him to truly gauge what level he and Raian were on, and so far, he was finding buttons to push; he could read people easier than one might think. "Are you going to gauge my intelligence and cooperation further? Or do you want me to tell you what you want to know? You say you have as much time as you desire to do this... but how much time is that, when war is knocking on your front door?" "You misinterpret me." Raian replied, standing now to his full height, and meeting Asumu's gaze with a similar grin. "You assume that I must hurry because war is on the horizon, but who's to say I don't welcome that? You're a smart man, Asumu. I can tell that from our brief exchange. But its clear that you're a man quite above me on the social scale. I can tell by your stance. Your lingering disgust for being locked in that flea-ridden cell. Its eating you." Raian was a shark. Asumu, his prey. He circled the chair he had thrown down, only moments before, so that he could stand face to face with the Quincy. A thin sheet of barrier, which was deceptively strong, was all that was keeping the two men from tearing out the other's esophagus. ''God, I'm terrible at this. I know. "Me?" he continued. "I'd prefer it if your kind just kept coming, like the locust they are. I'd prefer carving up Quincy corpses day in and day out, as opposed to sitting in some office, doing paperwork for the rest of my days. Believe me, if it were my choice, you'd be out here, instead of in there, hanging from the end of my blade like a bloody rag doll." God, that felt good to say. Raian was well known for being ruthless on the battlefield. Not quite as ruthless as his silver-haired rival, but to the Quincy scourge, there was very little difference between the two of them. He was a battle-hardened soldier, and the feel of his sharpened metal sawing through flesh, bone, and arteries was pure ecstasy. Nothing in this world—and I mean nothing—had given him the satisfaction that the heat of battle gave him. "But," he sighed. "My boss, unfortunately, wants an end brought to this whole thing. So that brings us right back to square one. You seemed to doubt it before, but now I'll solidify it. I have all the time I need. If war does come, as you say, and your friends come knocking, I'll just cut them apart. Limb, by bloody limb. This place makes for a nice tomb for your kind, anyways." Raian leaned back against the chair now, grinning devilishly at the Quincy. You only thought you could outwit me. "Now, get to talking." he barked. "Anything. Everything. I want to know what your kind's next move is. What they're planning. And how they plan to do it. You're going to tell me." He didn't want to have to use the torture methods that had been given to him. Well, maybe a little. But, in the end, he knew he would have to. It was just a matter of when. The Interrogation A single raise of his eyebrow. This was the only change in expression Raian would see on Asumu's face. Now he knew the man was bluffing; Raian certainly wasn't this good at threatening prisoners of war, for in his statement, he had brought something up that Asumu couldn't help but mention. It almost escaped his lips, but he stopped himself; he wasn't here to play mind games with this man, he was here for his own reasons. "Ah, so you do welcome bloodshed and war upon your homeland. Reckless of you, Captain; how easy you ignore the loss of life when it suits your convenience or pleasure..." He then popped his neck into place. Raian's disposition gave him all the indication that he would be tortured if he didn't cooperate. He didn't fear death, and Raian would never see him beg, but he wasn't a fan of pain, so he would have to be ready for it if it came. This made him think: why was he even here again? Whose side was he on during this conflict? What were his reasons for joining Akujin? Perhaps he might use that to his advantage, or maybe he just wanted to vent it out for the sake of letting someone else, enemy or friend, how he felt. "I regret to say, however..." he continued. ", that I won't be able to tell you much outside of what you already know. I joined Akujin's legions for reasons that existed outside of his ambitions, and I wasn't with him long. I suspect that he expected me to be captured or left behind, and didn't bother to give me information about his next move, but I can give you his army size, strength, and otherwise." He folded his hands behind his back, and stood straight, staring dispassionately into Raian's glare once more. "Now, try to be specific: what is it you wish to know?" Raian blinked. Once was all that was needed. Was this guy for real? "Why?" The word came out before he had really had time to mentally register it. Emotion was taking over again. Raian was a man of battle, but he was also one of vengeance. He had not yet forgotten what the Quincy of Akujin's army had done to his brother. Stolen his Bankai. His pride. And then killed him. Tossed him aside like some worthless fodder. It was for this reason that he had gone on a bloodlusting rampage against Tiro con L'arco. "Why is he doing all this?" Raian's voice was a hiss. Like a serpent preparing to strike. And now, he was asking for him. Not the Gotei 13. Not the spiritual alliance. For himself. And for his brother. The monster that Raian had buried so many centuries ago—the Hitokiri Battōsai—was surfacing faster than Raian could control it. Sweat was beginning to accumulate below the ridges of his neck. Not nervous sweat. But the sweat of a man who was trying, desperately, to restrain himself. His next statement came in a snarl. "I've gone through it over and over in my head." he barked. "I don't know if you were made aware of this, but Akujin and I have... history. And still I can't find an answer for it all. What is he after? His military strength. His military size. Those aren't really factors in this war, and we both know it. This isn't a normal military engagement, surely you must realize that. When two armies collide, they go after each other's most prized possessions. Locations of strategic importance. But Akujin and his military are showing up in the most obscure locations, save when he wants to get my attention." Like with Mashū. It took everything in the Captain not to slam his fist into the bedrock wall next to him. "And all I can ask myself is... Why?" Raian returned his gaze to the Quincy. He couldn't tell if Asumu was considering his question, or simply had no intention of revealing it. But he had to know. He had to. After all these decades, Akujin shows up and just starts attacking at random. In the most obscure and volatile locations. And because of his recklessness, he had already lost an entire platoon of decent soldiers to the Shinigami. There had to be a good reason for this recklessness. And Raian knew he had to find it. Before it was too late. Confusion. Raian was riddled with it, and it would have made Asumu smile if there wasn't one small thing in his head that was slowly starting to open his eyes: Raian wasn't just a monster. A bloodthirsty savage, sure, but in this regard... could he be similar to himself, the Quincy? Images of the elder Shinigami that he'd murdered sometime ago, the time was lost to him here, flashed in his mind briefly. He was a Shinigami who had wronged him and his family so long ago, and he got his revenge, but was that what Raian wanted too? Perhaps cooperation would further his curiosity, or his death. One way to be certain. "Hm." he started, still looking at Raian in a similar gaze as before. "I'm fully aware of your history with Akujin; I did my homework when I joined with him. What I missed was the personal motivation behind his actions. At first, he seemed just like any other warmonger, speaking about Soul Society as if it were diseased, rotten to the core, which it is, of course. But...when he talked of you, he didn't act like a villain in a child's book, simply wanting to cause havoc to thwart your "noble deeds". No, he talked about you as if you had wronged him, as if you were the source of his problems. Seems to me that he painted you as the villain in a child's book." He went on. "His tactics aren't strategic; they're intentional. He's playing with your forces, waiting for a reaction. He wants you to suffer, and he wants to see it first hand before he kills you." Not if I kill him first. "Oh, I wronged him alright." Raian spat out a laugh. "I kicked his bastard ass the last time he struck out at Soul Society." The memories were flooding back. Seireitou, Mashū, the captains. Their lifeless bodies laying on the floor of a battered and destroyed Seireitei. Not dead, but as close to dead as one could get. He had been training in a faraway place, courtesy of Seireitou, and had arrived to find his friends in a less that favorable position. And then there was Akujin. Basking in the power of his new Hollowfication. Flaunting his so-called perfection, unaware of Raian's arrival, as he taunted a lifeless Mashū. Threatening him with death. The thoughts brought up a surge of anger. Raian could feel his pulse in every corner of his body. All the way down to his toes. And he was hot. Very hot. Not the "hot" one would call a reasonably attractive individual, either. This was the heat of a person consumed by fury. "So, to repay me for shattering his so-called perfection, he had my brother murdered like some mongrel, razed the town that had given me refuge during my exile, killing the Humans that gave me refuge in that town in the process, and... and struck out at my rival. To seal my fate." Raian was talking mainly to himself, having temporarily forgotten Asumu could hear him. Not that he cared. The Quincy was there to answer him, so if he wanted to talk about his favorite recipes in the meantime, he could. But he quickly shook the clout from his mind and returned his attention to the prisoners. Only this time, his eyes were different. They were not of a man looking to intimidate the other. No. These eyes were of a man accusing the other. How dare you join such a cause. They were saying, though his thoughts were far from this line of thinking. "To form an army to harm one man seems to be going overboard. And it hardly seems likely that all his soldiers joined for such a reason." he continued, now speaking directly to the Quincy. "He must've had other goals. What did he plan on doing after killing me, as you so aptly put it?" "Unfortunately for you, I do not know." Asumu replied calmly. He was getting somewhere; Raian was beginning to lose himself with each and every word that they spoke. So many buttons to push, so many options, so many ways to acquire knowledge, and yet so little actual time to do so. "As I said, I wasn't with them long enough to really know or become invested in their ideals. I was there on my own terms, for my own reasons." Raian's eyes snapped up. My own reasons. Really? How interesting. "And what might those be?" he pressed, suddenly deterred from his tirade. He had to admit that the Quincy interested him. Most prisoners spent their time either being tortured, or shitting their pants. But, so far this man had treated the confrontation as a game as much as Raian himself had. They were simply men playing chess with one another, waiting for the other to slip up and reveal too much. Unfortunately for Asumu, Raian was a master of feigning defeat before snatching victory from his enemy's talons. And this was one game of chess he intended to win. "You've yet to enlighten me as to that." he added for emphasis. "And you've given me no reason to." Asumu replied in return, tilting his head slightly. He certainly wouldn't care to give Raian his true reasons for joining Akujin, but should he? It was a personal matter after all, one that was still his primary focus. Should he risk the possibility of Raian getting involved? Would there be any benefit to himself if he did? Too many factors. ''Too ''many factors. "You came to get information about Akujin out of me." he continued. "Not to get involved in the affairs of locusts. Or is your curiousity surfacing again?"